


Saturday love

by silvervelour



Series: Sun and love have six things in common [4]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: 70s AU, F/F, First Meeting, Smut, part of 70s fic but can be read as a stand alone !
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:53:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27088162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvervelour/pseuds/silvervelour
Summary: She’s batting each ball that Nicky throws her way, and begins round two with the simple act of accepting the invitation into Nicky’s space. Propping her elbow on the bar top, not paying mind to the pools of condensation, she rests her chin in the palm of her hand. Her glass of wine remains balanced delicately between her fingertips and Nicky shoots back what’s left of her drink just to add fire to the flame flickering in the pit of her stomach. Nicky licks across the swell of her bottom lip, and then digs her teeth into it as the woman utters her name; Jaida.“Jaida-”. Nicky repeats.It feels good on her tongue.“-Echanté, my love”.*It's 1979, and Nicky and Jaida meet at a bar in Arizona.
Relationships: Nicky Doll/Jaida Essence Hall
Series: Sun and love have six things in common [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1903786
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	Saturday love

**Author's Note:**

> hi pals!! so this is the last fic in the 70s series, and it felt right to end it with these gals!! im super happy with how this has turned out so I won't waffle here, but lemme know your thoughts if you wanna!<3

Nicky loves love.

All kinds of it.

She revels in the kind that builds slowly, brick by brick, yet also adores the type that only lasts for the night, or until the break of dawn. She falls into connections easily and drops out of them just as quick, but for as long as they last, she basks in them. There’s something about learning about a new person every weekend that captivates her in a way that she knows isn’t entirely understood; Jan jokingly yet lovingly calls her a slut because of it while Gigi is so aloof that Nicky doubts she’s able to tell one blonde from the next. 

But for Nicky, they all differ slightly. No lips feel the same when she kisses them, and each hand that holds her own grips a little harder than the last. There are some whines that echo in her mind hours, days after she’s heard them, but there are also moans that she forgets before she’s even made them happen. Afterwards, she often talks with them into the night. Each Saturday love has a reason for being in California and an excuse for why the need to leave just as rapidly as they’d arrived. 

More often than not, it’s because it feels illicit. 

Though for Nicky, it’s a reality. 

One that she’s come to find exciting rather than terrifying. 

It’s why she suggests the initial road trip to Jan and Gigi, from one coast to the next with a destination of sun and love and music and everything in between. Jan agrees without much convincing and Gigi is just glad to be doing  _ something _ . They leave before sunset on a menial weekday and by the time that they’ve reached LA, they’re joined by Crystal and Jackie. It works from the get go - conversations flow, humour is light - and Nicky is relentlessly smug until they cross the state border into Arizona. The others have coupled up in a way that’s left her feeling both embraced yet like a fifth-wheel, and she struts into a bar named  _ Sakura’s _ on the evening of day three with the intention of fixing that. 

Even if only for the night. 

In the bar, the lights are dim. 

The floors are tacky with spilt drinks, and the air is thick with musky cologne and overpowering beer. Nicky’s certain that if the heavy guitars of the music weren’t so loud then she’d be able to hear the squeaks of her platforms as well as the giggles of a gaggle of women sitting at a booth over them. They eye Nicky as she walks past and Jackie, who’s stood next to her as they walk, nudges her in her ribs. Nicky feigns exaggerated pain and pouts melodramatically. Jackie gives her a look that’s filled with both humour and warning and as they make themselves comfortable on creaking wooden bar stools, Nicky cocks her head. 

“What?-”. She asks. 

“-Am I not allowed to look?”. 

Jackie already looks exasperated, and Nicky doesn’t blame her. 

Jan, Gigi and Crystal are flagging down a bartender, excitable with their grins and cheers. They order drinks that Nicky knows will be colourful and fruity and fun just by looking at them, as well as two Jack and Coke’s that they slide across the bar towards her and Jackie. Nicky takes her first sip as Jackie continues staring at her, her eyes all knowing, and then sets the glass down onto the bar top that’s swimming with condensation. Droplets of it gather on the tips of Nicky’s fingers and she wipes them off on the cord fabric of her shorts before smirking at the way that Jackie rolls her eyes. 

“We’re in Arizona, not California-”. Jackie reminds her. 

As if she’d forgotten. 

“-Just be careful”. She warns. 

And though Nicky keeps Jackie’s words in mind - because she knows she’s both caring and correct - she doesn’t stop her gaze from wandering back across the room. It traipses first along the bar, to where Jackie has moved on to being pressed subtly against Jan’s side, and Gigi and Crystal who are less than discreet. One of Crystal’s hands is wrapped around Gigi’s elbow while the other cradles her drink lazily to her chest. Nicky watches her sip at it as Gigi bats her eyelashes, and as much as Nicky  _ does _ love love, there’s only so much of seeing the usually disinterested Gigi fawning so openly that she’s able to take. 

She turns around, then, and looks in the direction of the booth of women that she’d noticed when she’d first walked into the bar. They’re all engrossed in conversations that result in raucous cackles and flailing hands, and Nicky can’t help but smile at the sight of it. She adores women and adores women being happy, and especially loves women thriving in the company of each other. Nicky has always maintained that she needs a man to do nothing apart from exist - even that’s a push - and she thinks the same as she keeps looking. 

Keeps admiring.

In the background, the music gets louder. Evening dips into night and Jack and Coke’s become straight whiskey that Nicky chases with laughter. She loses Gigi and Crystal to the bar bathrooms as James Brown plays, and then Jan and Jackie when the voice of Siouxsie And The Banshees begins to pour from the speakers like the drops of tequila from their lips. Nicky would be willing to bet that while Crystal and Gigi have simply made themselves scare to the bathrooms out back, Jan and Jackie have taken solace in the quiet of the beer garden. The majority of people have been avoiding it because of the small inconvenience of rain, but Nicky knows that neither Jan or Jackie will mind it much. 

They’ll sit, talk, and skirt around the bud of affection that Nicky’s able to see blossoming. 

Because they’re slow, whereas Crystal and Gigi are not. 

And neither is Nicky. 

She moves quickly, stealthily. She’s had her eye on one woman in particular since she stepped foot into the bar - dark hair, dark eyes, bright yellow dress - and isn’t above making it clearly known. The woman is sat on the right hand side of the booth across the room, hair curling around her shoulders. Nicky’s watched her neck back at least three glasses of wine, her curls bouncing around her shoulders with each swig that she takes. The women she’s sat with have been drinking white but  _ the one in the bright yellow dress _ has been sipping exclusively red. It matches the deep shade of her lipstick and Nicky wants to taste it, smudge it outside of the perfectly drawn lines of her lips. 

So she decides that she will. 

Nicky orders two more drinks - a whiskey, a glass of red wine - and then calls the woman over with only a gaze and a nod towards the drinks in front of her. It’s an easy game that Nicky knows how to play, and round one begins as soon as the woman stands from her seat at the table. She saunters through the crowds of sweaty bodies and spilled drinks, and slides easily onto the vacant barstool next to Nicky. Her daintily manicured hand picks up the glass of wine and she clinks it against the edge of Nicky’s tumbler with a smirk, a gracious nod. 

She’s batting each ball that Nicky throws her way, and begins round two with the simple act of accepting the invitation into Nicky’s space. Propping her elbow on the bar top, not paying mind to the pools of condensation, she rests her chin in the palm of her hand. Her glass of wine remains balanced delicately between her fingertips and Nicky shoots back what’s left of her drink just to add fire to the flame flickering in the pit of her stomach. Nicky licks across the swell of her bottom lip, and then digs her teeth into it as the woman utters her name;  _ Jaida _ . 

“Jaida-”. Nicky repeats. 

It feels good on her tongue. 

“-Echanté, my love”. 

Jaida hums, and Nicky’s unable to hear it but she doesn’t need to. She understands the blush that’s rising on Jaida’s cheeks, and her grip that’s tightening around the stem of her glass. Her skin is tinted pink even in the blue hue of the bar lighting, and despite the playing field being level, Nicky feels as if she’s winning. She gives Jaida a shameless once over that starts at the platforms on her feet and ends at her narrowing eyes, and  _ oh _ , Nicky thinks, she’s not one that’s going to lose easily. It’s a challenge that she’s willing to take and Jaida, by the look that she’s giving Nicky, is going to rise to it. 

“You’re brave”. Nicky tells her. 

Jaida purses her lips but keeps her composure. 

“Brave?-”. She asks. 

She lets out a low chuckle before placing her wine glass down onto the bartop. 

“-I mean, I agree, but why you thinkin’ that?”. 

Nicky gives her another obvious once over, but this time her eyes linger a little longer on how Jaida’s leaning forward in her seat, shifting closer towards the edge of it. Her knees brush up against Nicky’s, and Nicky notes that she’s warm, soft. Nicky lets her own hand crawl into Jaida’s lap and when it gets there, Jaida links their fingers. There’s no pretense, no preamble, because they both already know what every glance and each touch means. Nicky’s going to have her in all of the ways that she wants her by the end of the night because Jaida is giving herself over to her; she’s as sweet as the Coke and as biting as the whiskey that Nicky’s been drinking since the start of the evening. 

So instead of answering Jaida’s question with the truth -  _ you’re brave for wanting me in public  _ \- she opts for humour. 

“Yellow dress”. She deadpans. 

“What about it?”. 

“It’s-”. Nicky tilts her head. 

“ _ -Bright _ ”.

For a moment, Jaida looks like she’s going to laugh. But when she doesn’t, Nicky smirks. Jaida hums, and this time Nicky does hear it, because of the brief spell of quiet that’s cast upon them. There’s a break in the music as the tracks switch from one to the next, and  _ YMCA _ by The Village People begins playing. It makes Nicky snort though Jaida is focussed, and they both might be a shade more than tipsy but the end goal is clear. Jaida leans even closer and drops her voice just for Nicky. 

“It got you to notice me, didn’t it?”. Jaida drawls. 

Nicky arches an eyebrow, then shakes her head slowly. 

“No”. 

“Oh?”.

“ _ No _ ”. Nicky emphasises. 

It’s then that Jaida picks her wine glass back up. This time, rather than holding it by the stem, she wraps her hand clumsily around the bottom of the glass. It’s the first slip of her composure that Nicky witnesses, and she lets herself feel smug about it when Jaida sips what's left of the red. A bead of it gets caught at the corner of her mouth, but she licks at it before Nicky’s able to swipe it away for her. Nicky becomes entranced by the bob of her throat and the elongated column of her neck as she tilts her head back, and Nicky mumbles the words  _ sexy _ and  _ gorgeous _ under her breath. 

Jaida either doesn’t hear her or is too shaken to respond. 

“So what was it?-”. Jaida questions instead. 

“-What made you notice me?”. 

Nicky almost tells her that she’d noticed Jaida before she’d fully stepped into the room. Because she had. Her  _ bright yellow dress _ had been a factor, sure, but it hadn’t been as fluorescent as the smile that Jaida had offered the whole room, or as scorching as the energy that she gives off just by being there. She regards Jaida carefully, and the Saturday love is in full force. She knows that she’s not reading into it too much because of the look on Jaida’s face that matches her own, and she avoids the question by squeezing her hand, her thumb stroking across her knuckles. 

“Mon amour-”. Nicky sighs. 

“-I know you want me. Why are we acting like you don’t?”. 

And then Jaida drops her guise. 

She untangles her hand from Nicky’s, but allows Nicky to keep tapping her fingers against her knee, before they eventually migrate to her thigh. There, they press firmly into her skin, and with each touch Nicky tries to convey how much she wants Jaida, how much she  _ needs _ her. Jaida’s thighs are strong yet supple, and Nicky’s already thinking about laying between them until sunrise. She digs her nails in gently to test the waters when Jaida sets her glass back down with a clink, and there’s a mutual understanding that they need to leave. 

Quickly. 

“I live around the corner”. Jaida winks. 

She stands up, smooths out the nonexistent creases in her dress. 

“Is that an invitation?”. Nicky grins. 

Her hand is still travelling further up Jaida’s thigh, but it drops when Jaida takes a step backwards. She looks down at Nicky, but Nicky knows that she still holds the power. She guesses that she has a couple of inches on Jaida even without her heels, and the thought admittedly makes her feel woozy. There’s a reel of images of Jaida already in her mind; on her knees, hands in her hair, lips on her neck, scratches on her back, tongue licking at her and -

“Girl, shut up-”. Jaida rolls her eyes. 

“-C’mon, let’s go”.

But Nicky is already pushing herself up from her seat, arm slinking instinctively around Jaida’s shoulders. 

*****

Nicky tells Jackie and only Jackie where she’s going. 

Jan and Gigi’s incessant questions aren’t something that she’s willing to face, not with Jaida dangling off of her arm like a bracelet. Jackie is the safest bet, she thinks, and she’s grateful when Jackie not only doesn’t comment, but sends her off with a wink that feels like a promise. Nicky steps outside of the bar to the cooling night air that feels shockingly sobering, and is hit with the occasional drop of rain as they pad along the sidewalk. She slows her pace so that Jaida’s able to keep up with her, but doesn’t remove her hand from where it’s settled on the indent of Jaida’s waist. It gives her leverage, warmth, a taste of what’s to come. 

Through breathy words, Jaida tells Nicky that her apartment is less than five minutes away. Maybe even less. They’re illuminated only by the street lamps, the occasional cab that drives past them, and Nicky is beginning to feel the patience that she usually prides herself for disappearing. Jaida is looking up at her with wide eyes and fluttering lashes, fading lipstick and glowing skin, and Nicky decides then that five minutes is five minutes too long. 

She misses Jaida’s lips despite not having felt them yet, and guides them quickly into an empty, dimly lit alleyway with the intention of changing that. Jaida is heat embodied pressed up against her, her touch crackling like fire. It’s a ghost of what lingers behind them with each step that they take - a sense of desperation, unbridled sensuality - and Nicky brackets her against the cool brick of the wall. Jaida looks up at her once more, nodding shortly, and weaves her fingers in the hair at the base of Nicky’s neck. The action makes Nicky blink in surprise, but she’s quick to fix herself and then it  _ happens _ . 

“Nicky-”. Jaida mewls. 

“ _ -Fuck _ ”. 

They kiss filthily. 

Messy. 

Jaida tastes like sour wine and Nicky of old Jack and Coke, as well as fresher whiskey. Nicky feels tipsy all over again as she licks into Jaida’s mouth, her hands firm on her hips, and Jaida makes her own pleasure known through high pitched whines that Nicky swallows. They echo in the cave of her mouth before sinking down into her stomach, and Nicky wants Jaida’s lips to follow the same path. Their lips glide with little effort, and the softness of it combined with how carnally dirty it is almost makes Nicky forget about the jagged wall that Jaida’s bare thighs are grazing against. Nicky knows that it must be far from comfortable, and it’s why she pulls away, albeit reluctantly. 

“Mon ange-”. Nicky mumbles. 

“-We shouldn’t do this here”. 

Jaida looks downtrodden only for a fleeting second. 

“I know-”. She agrees. 

But her lips chase Nicky’s for more. 

_ More _ . 

“-Back to mine?”. 

*****

Jaida lives on the third floor of an apartment complex.

And true to her word, they arrive in less than a handful of minutes. 

They take the elevator because neither want to battle the obstacles of the stairs in their heels, and for the minute that it takes them to reach Jaida’s floor, the air surrounding them is like static. It fizzes, crackles, and still doesn’t break when the door to the elevator crank open abruptly. Jaida is the first to step out, and she ensures that they’re alone before taking Nicky by the hand. Nicky lets herself be pulled, down the hallway with the flickering light and to a door that’s marked with  _ fifteen _ . Jaida unlocks it - she fumbles with the key for less than a second - and closes it behind them with a hollow thud. 

Jaida turns to her as soon as it’s locked. 

Because as much as Nicky wants to stop to take in her surroundings, admire Jaida’s home decor that she’s sure is impressive, but she also wants her hands back on Jaida. So she forgoes looking towards the candles lining the mantle in the living room, or the books stacked high on the coffee table, and instead asks Jaida where her bedroom is. Jaida doesn’t reply, though she does begin walking along the corridor once she toes off her heels. She leaves them on a woven mat next to the door, and Nicky hums lowly at the sight of her calves tensing, the fabric of her bright yellow dress that stretches over her ass. 

“Quit lookin’”. Jaida chastises. 

She’s joking, grinning. 

“But-”. Nicky pouts. 

“-I wanna’ touch”.

Jaida leads them into her bedroom, flicks on a small lamp that sits on the bedside table. 

“You  _ can _ ”. She answers. 

They kiss just as they had in the alleyway. 

Nicky leans down to meet Jaida’s lips, and Jaida pushes herself up onto her toes, her neck craning with the effort. Hand meet hips and arms loop around shoulders, before zips are being tugged. They part briefly when Jaida strides across the room to her record player, sets the needle on  _ love to love you baby  _ by Donna Summer, but when they reconnect, Nicky is restless. She works the silky material of Jaida’s dress down the length of her body, kicks it to the corner of the room when it hits the floor. Jaida’s left stood in just a pair of black panties with yellow accents that match her discarded dress and Nicky groans at the sight of it. 

_ Loudly _ . 

“Merde-”. She mutters. 

“-You are so gorgeous”. 

The Saturday love that she has for Jaida isn’t one that she’s felt in a long time. Or, if she’s recalling correctly, ever. There’s a roughness that stays tender, and a desperation that remains gentle. Jaida is still looking at her as her hands reach for the button of Nicky’s pants and Nicky feels a bit too seen by how considerate the motion is. She gives Jaida a nod that’s more timid than she intends for it to be, but then collects herself, and helps Jaida with working her shorts down her thighs. They land at her ankles, then get caught, but Jaida kisses her through their combined laughter and Nicky can’t remember ever wanting anybody more.

“I knew you wanted me too”. Jaida husks. 

It’s breathed directly against Nicky’s lips, and then her jaw, her neck. 

“Want you so bad-”. Nicky tells her. 

Jaida’s teeth drag across her collarbones, and her hand dips to between her thighs. 

“-Wanted you as soon as I saw you”. She admits. 

Nicky knows that she’s wet. 

_ Soaked _ . 

Jaida has pride in her eyes and wetness on her fingers and Nicky subconsciously grinds down against them. Her platforms have long since been discarded, and it’s lessened the height difference between them enough that Nicky’s now able to kiss Jaida - hard, fast, deep - without twisting, curving her body. She unbuttons her own shirt, unrolls her sleeves and tosses it in the same vague direction that she had kicked Jaida’s dress. It leaves the both of them standing in only flimsy underwear that Nicky’s beginning to see as nothing but an inconvenience even if Jaida does look alluring, provocative. 

The lyrics _Do it to me again and again, You put me in such an awful spin_ repeat for the second time in the background. Jaida’s fingers press harder as the bedside lamp bathes them in orange, and Nicky grunts, bucks her hips. There’s a smug look upon Jaida’s face but Nicky can’t bring herself to tease her for it. Nicky thinks that she’s earned the right to wear her saccharine sweet grin and she tells her as much as Jaida slips her fingers beneath the waistband of Nicky’s panties. 

“For me?”. Jaida softens. 

Nicky can do nothing but nod her head, her control vanishing momentarily. 

Jaida’s fingers are pressing against her clit, dipping lower to ghost her entrance. Nicky heaves out a breath that gets caught in her throat and then nods once more. Her knees feel weak as Jaida walks her backwards, and then her back meets the cold, sanded wood of a dresser that’s lined up against the wall. She grips the handles on the drawers of it for leverage as Jaida’s fingers continue their ministrations and then mewls - needy, wanting, pleading - and then blinks in surprise when Jaida seeks out permission that Nicky had thought she’d already given her. 

“Can I?”. Jaida checks. 

But Nicky’s already placing a hand on her shoulder, pushing her down down down. 

“On your knees for me, baby”. She commands. 

Jaida sinks to the floor, and the sight is enough to make Nicky wet all over again. She makes quick work of pulling Nicky’s panties down her legs, but to Nicky it still feels tantalisingly slow. Jaida’s tongue licks all the way from her knee to where the juncture of her inner thigh meets her pussy, and she nuzzles the dark, downy hair there before pulling away. She looks up sheepishly, the peaks of her cheekbones glowing, but then shifts forward, and hooks Nicky’s leg over her shoulder. Nicky lets Jaida position her as she wants and then reaches out her hand, tangles her fingers in Jaida’s curls. 

_ Fuck _ . 

“So pretty like this-”. Nicky exhales. 

“-Just like that”. 

And Nicky had expected Jaida to tease. 

But she doesn’t. 

She goes in with one goal - to make Nicky come - and Nicky knows that it isn’t going to take much effort. She licks across her folds to begin with, gathers Nicky’s dripping wetness with her tongue, and then wraps her lips around her clit. She sucks rhythmically, and it has Nicky cursing out her name. One hand grips tighter at the handle of the drawers, and the other tugs harder at Jaida’s hair. It makes Jaida whimper around Nicky’s clit, and Nicky swears that she feels it travel up deep inside of her as she tilts her head back, sending her moans to the ceiling. 

“Oh my god-”. Nicky pants. 

“- _ Baise moi _ , keep going”. She groans. 

Just like Jaida hadn’t teased to begin with, she keeps her motions steady right up until Nicky comes. She wraps her lips firmly around Nicky’s clit, and holds her thighs steady even when Nicky thrusts forward, both of her hands now interwoven in Jaida’s hair. Jaida looks up at her with blown out pupils and Nicky’s jaw drops as she groans, then whines when the stimulation becomes too much. Her thighs are wet and Jaida’s mouth is gleaming and  _ god _ , Nicky thinks, if she could capture the image and frame it she’d title it; love. 

“Fuck”. Nicky mumbles. 

And then Jaida rises shakily to her feet. 

“I’m hoping you will, yeah”. She quips. 

Nicky has to laugh through the breath that she’s barely got back in her body. 

“On the bed-”. She asserts. 

“-Now”. 

***** 

Late night becomes early morning. 

The air smells like perfume, vanilla candles and sex, and Nicky and Jaida are one. They’ve switched out the Donna Summer for Dolly Parton, and are basking in the energy that surrounds them as they work their way through a punnet of grapes that Jaida had retrieved from the kitchen. Nicky feeds them to her between sweet bites of her own and even sweeter kisses and she’s content to enjoy the silence that settles upon them like a blanket. It stays that way until the clock on the bedside table hits three and then Nicky is met with a faint grin, an even quieter voice.

“You said something in French-“. Jaida then mentions nonchalantly.

Her head is resting on Nicky’s stomach, fingertips drawing circles on her thigh.

“-What did it mean?”. 

Nicky doesn’t have to ask to know what phrase she’s referring to. 

“Oh-“. Nicky laughs. 

She runs her own fingers through Jaida’s disheveled curls, and kicks the thin sheet off of her legs. It’s too warm in the room, too sweaty to be this close, but having Jaida pressed against her feels  _ nice _ . It bundles up at the bottom of the mattress, forms a cloud that she feels like she’s floating on. Jaida’s hand continues tracing circles on her thigh, then eventually her hip, and Nicky has to focus on not getting swept away with the current of the motion. 

“- _ Baise moi _ ? Fuck me”. She translates. 

Jaida lifts her head from her chest, and arches an eyebrow at Nicky. Even in the dim light of the room Nicky is able to see the red of her lipstick smudged around her chin, and she has to laugh at the knowledge that there are trails of it across her body, merging onto the mattress. She’s able to make out one that goes all the way from her hipbone to her knee, and she’s reminded of how Jaida had sunk to the floor, how she’d made herself at home between Nicky’s thighs as if she’d had a key from the beginning of the night and - 

“Are you offering to go again? Because if you are…”. Jaida trails off. 

The word  _ love _ rings in Nicky’s ears once more. 

“Would you say yes?”. 

Jaida’s response comes in only the form of her lips pressing firmly against Nicky’s. 

*****

Saturday love becomes midweek adoration when they wake up the following morning. 

The sun is streaming through the curtains, painting Jaida’s skin in abstract refractions. They don’t talk as they rouse from their brief sleep but Nicky doesn’t think of it as an essential. Jaida greets her with a smile and a kiss to her shoulder and eventually clambers out of Nicky’s arms to head to the kitchen. She returns not even ten minutes later with a plate stacked with buttered toast, and then two mugs of steaming black coffee. Nicky wraps her hands securely around one of them as Jaida makes herself comfortable again next to her and it’s only then that she takes in her surroundings properly. 

On the other side of the room, there’s a desk. It’s piled high with stacks of books like the coffee table in Jaida’s living room, and there’s a cluster of empty glasses balancing precariously on the edge of it. Each one is a different shade of transparent blue and they match the scatter cushions strewn across the bed. There are pictures hung on the walls too - portraits of women that Nicky doesn’t recognise but wishes that she did, landscapes that Nicky thinks look more east coast than west - and they all feel very  _ Jaida _ .

Jaida begins to follow her gaze, and in between glances, they get to talking about the day. About what’s to come. Nicky tells Jaida that she’s from California, and had been traveling with Jan and Gigi when they’d picked up Crystal and Jackie along the way. Jaida laughs at the absurdity of it and Nicky chuckles with her because she knows that she’s right. It’s chaos, crazy, a crazy kind of chaos that Nicky is partly responsible for. Jaida shakes her head in disbelief as she hooks her legs across Nicky’s lap and from there, the conversation detours. 

And Nicky is excited by it. 

Because there’s an idea in her mind that won’t stop screaming at her. 

“Where are you heading?”. Jaida questions. 

Nicky plants a hand on Jaida’s knee, strokes her thumb back and forth. 

“Florida-”. Nicky confirms. 

Then she beams, wildly. 

“-Wanna’ come?”. 

If Jaida had seen the offer coming, then she says nothing. Instead, she hides her growing smile behind pursed lips, and covers Nicky’s hand that’s wandering upwards with her own. It all feels too calm, too easy. Nicky’s laying with her head propped up on her elbow and Jaida is arching an eyebrow, tucking her curls back behind her ear. She appears contemplative, as if she’s mulling over the pros and cons, but Nicky’s able to see the  _ yes _ flickering in her eyes. She sits up, abruptly, her energy excitable and her aura gentle. 

“You bein’ serious?”. 

“Deadly”. 

And then Jaida’s crossing the room, pulling a small suitcase from her walk in closet. 

She grins back to Nicky, smile as wide as her eyes. 

“When we leavin’?”.

*****

Nicky had told Jackie and only Jackie where she was going the night prior. 

Though she knows by now that the word has spread throughout the four walls of the RV. She’s expecting Jan’s skittish giggles and Jackie’s inquisitive smirks, as well as Crystals bewildered amazement and Gigi’s blasé attitude that she’s grown used to over the years. She’s prepared herself for the reactions that she knows are coming and it’s why she knocks tentatively on the door of the RV the following morning. The sun is already high in the sky and Jaida is tucked delicately beneath her arm, suitcase standing at her side. 

It’s Jan who answers the door. 

And Nicky is met with instant squeals. 

“ _ Room for one more _ ?”. 

“Oh, bitch!”. 

**Author's Note:**

> im also on Tumblr @ jancox!


End file.
